


Soothing out the Hurts

by Tallihensia



Category: Smallville
Genre: Drama, Future Fic, M/M, Post-Rift, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-09-09
Updated: 2010-09-09
Packaged: 2017-10-11 14:57:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,977
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/113650
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tallihensia/pseuds/Tallihensia
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>If one learns to harm people, one must also learn to heal. Superman accidentally hurts Lex and decides he has to make up for it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Soothing out the Hurts

**Author's Note:**

> **Disclaimer:** Only mine in my dreams. ;-) This story was written for free entertainment purposes only and may not be reproduced for profit or altered without permission.
> 
> **Warnings:** none
> 
> **Spoilers:** none
> 
> **Notes:** Future AU after mid-Season 3, post-rift, ~10 years.

## Soothing out the Hurts

The kryptonite beam caught Superman across his back as he tried to dodge the rays. Hurting, he lashed out stronger than he meant to and Lex flew across the room to slam against the wall and fall limply down.

Clark's breath caught for a moment before Lex got up, scowling, a hand on the wall and his other reaching towards his pocket.

Speeding across the room, Clark caught Lex's hand before it completed that journey and held Lex still while he frisked him. X-ray didn't work when coat pockets were lead-lined. The whole damn coat was shot through with miniscule threads of lead, and Clark didn't even want to think of how much that had cost Lex. He didn't want to think of how much Lex hated him to have had it made.

From the pockets, the laser gun was tossed on the floor and melted with heat vision. The small lead box... Clark wasn't about to open. Not here, at least, maybe in his lab remotely. He tucked it away as Lex glowered at him.

Clark frowned back, "Give it up, Luthor. Your plans here are finished."

"Foiled, perhaps, but not finished." The corners of Lex's mouth twitched up in that superior 'I know something you don't' look he regularly used on Superman. It was nothing like the early grins he used to give Clark back when they'd been friends.

A muscle in Clark's face twitched as he fought not to react. Why did Lex always do this to him? Why couldn't Clark just think of him as the enemy? They fought, but the moment Lex was hurt, all Clark's protective instincts came to the fore, driving out his own anger and making him remember the past.

"What were you going to do with the tritium?" Clark asked, trying to get back to business.

"Make illuminated clocks," Lex replied flippantly. "You have just deprived a developing country a chance to know what time it is."

Abruptly, Clark let go of Lex and flew off. He destroyed the kryptonite ray gun and the mainframe computers as he went, and he grabbed the box of eerily glowing green rods that reminded him so much of kryptonite. He really hated tritium. And he hated Lex. And he hated it when Lex did stupid illegal things and he had to come and fight Lex.

After dropping the box off where it should be, Clark went back to his apartment and laid down on the couch. He stared blankly at the ceiling, his thoughts as empty as the whitewash above.

There was a story to be written somewhere, but Clark just couldn't get up the enthusiasm for it.

Finally, he just rolled over and went to sleep, ignoring everything else that needed to be done.

The next day, Clark went to the weekly press-briefing at Luthor-Corp. There wasn't anything special happening, just the regular updates on acquisitions, discoveries, productions, and research. None of the productions, Clark noted sourly, involved illuminated clocks.

On his way out with nothing more than a half-full notebook, Clark noticed some unfamiliar bodyguards prowling the edges of the building. Reflexively, he x-rayed to find out what was happening. Here and there, lead blocked his sight, yet the levels the visiting dignitaries were touring were visible and mundane. Nothing illegal or dangerous, just business as usual.

Clark, though, let his gaze linger as he watched Lex deliver the smooth speeches about LuthorCorp and show the dignitaries around the display labs. Lex was limping ever so slightly, and he held his left side stiffly. Most people wouldn't notice. Most people hadn't spent a lifetime watching Lex.

"Excuse me, did you have any more questions?" The press liaison asked him with the right blend of politeness and attention, delivering the 'time to move on' message without offense. If Clark really had had a question, she would have answered it just as competently. He didn't, though, so he moved on, with a last glance through the walls at Lex.

... ... ...

That night, Clark was distracted from his patrolling, thinking about Lex. He'd often regretted the way he'd turned from Lex when they were young. Their friendship had never been the same after Belle Reve. Clark hadn't noticed at the time, being preoccupied in his teenage angst and struggling with his changes. Looking back on it from the distance of maturity and years… Clark felt he'd abandoned Lex; left him to face his father and the problematic slope of experimentation with the meteors. He'd taken their friendship for granted, not remembering that Lex didn't have anybody else to turn to.

Really, Clark shouldn't have been surprised when Lex's experiments turned dangerous and his business practices ruthless. What other role models did Lex have? Just his comics and dreams, and one sixteen-year old kid who lied to him at every step, even when it wasn't necessary.

In his heart, Clark still remembered the younger Lex that he'd pulled from the river. The wonder, the delight, the happiness, and the determination to do things right, to be different than his father.

And every now and then, a look Clark got from Lex made him think that Lex also remembered. A hesitation before Lex fired a weapon at Superman, charity contributions to causes Clark championed, benefits for companies he took over. Luthor was not as bad as he could be.

It was, perhaps, an odd measure to judge somebody by, but it was one that Clark felt more in his bones than could rationally explain. As ruthless as Lex was… he was holding himself back. There was still something inside Lex that really didn't **want** to do these things yet he felt he had no choice. Somewhere along the line, Lex had turned on the wrong path, and he knew it but didn't turn back to the right one.

Perhaps it was Clark's imagination, yet he really felt there was still something there. If there was, though, then why didn't Lex come back? Maybe Lex couldn't on his own. Maybe he didn't see the point. Perhaps it was Clark who needed to extend the hand, help him, be there for him. With something more than lectures. Would Lex believe Clark when all he'd ever had before was rejection? Clark could kick himself now for the times when they were younger when Lex had begged for second chances and Clark had rejected him. Said 'okay' on the surface, but they both had known that Clark hadn't really tried on his end.

Perhaps Clark should go back to patrolling and help that lady being mugged and stop angsting about things that were in the past. With a sigh, Clark returned to his duties.

… … …

The stars were out, competing with the city lights for attention and losing. If there was one thing Clark missed about the countryside, it was the stars and the fields and the open spaces. The city was his home, though. He had fallen in love with it the first time he'd visited, though to this day he wasn't quite sure why. He thought it might because of Chloe and Lex, bright, vivacious, living and curious and vibrant in a way Smallville was not, and they passed those personal traits onto Clark's association with the city.

Clark landed on the rooftop, near the helicopter pad. The city was as noisy as it was bright, but up here, over a thousand feet above the landscape, there was a pocket of silence. Clark stood for a long moment, trying to bring that silence into him, calming his heart and fears.

Walking to the main access square, Clark rang the doorbell. A thousand feet up, and Lex had a doorbell on his roof. Well, he also had a helicopter pad, so it probably wasn't there **only** for Superman.

The door buzzed with the standard condo 'door is open now' sound. It was entirely too mundane for Lex. Older technology too. It probably amused him somehow.

Clark pushed open the door and walked in, closing it securely behind him. The elevator sat waiting, but Clark chose instead to take the stairs the couple of flights down. And how scary was it that he knew the way? He'd never been here. When they were young, this penthouse configuration hadn't existed. When they were older, Clark Kent wasn't welcome and Superman even less so. Yet Clark knew the way and his feet followed it without thinking. Lex's obsession with Clark was probably on a par with Clark's obsession with him.

Reaching the main floor, Clark opened the door and walked into the foyer. There he paused, looking around. It was, and was not, very Luthor-like. The polished hardwood floor was covered in elegant small rugs with rich brown and earthy colors. There was a mirror above the console table, which was a nice walnut finish. A coat stand in the corner, with Lex's black lead-lined coat hanging on it. Flowers in a vase on another table opposite it. Cornflowers, slightly faded, providing a single patch of brighter color.

All of which was very normal… and yet was strange. It didn't scream wealth and position, and where were the statues and swords?

Clark had always known the castle in Smallville had been originally decorated to Lionel's tastes, and Lex just moved the barest amount around to make himself comfortable. It had changed over the years, but not all changes were Lex's choices. Clark wondered if even this here was what Lex wanted, or if some decorator chose it for him. Or a random ex-wife.

With a scowl, Clark moved on. Down a hallway, in through a larger open room… reception area? Parlor? Clark wasn't that up on what rooms were called. In his life, houses weren't usually that complicated. Apartments were even less so. He paused, looking between a choice of directions. Instinctively, his feet led him left, and there he found Lex in the living room.

Lex was sprawled on one of the couches, a glass of water in one hand, a book open on his lap. His steel blue eyes watched Clark without any show of emotion on the smooth face. Lex still had on his office clothes, though his white shirt was open and tieless and he'd left his shoes somewhere. It was a little strange to see Lex in socks.

"I'm honored to have Superman visiting my humble abode," Lex mocked as he leaned forward and put his water on the coffee table. He kept his hold on the book. "What can I do for you?"

"I'm not…" Clark trailed off, and then sighed as he looked down at himself. He'd flown over in Superman costume. "Can I use your bathroom?"

Lex blinked and then amusement crept over his face. "That is probably a first." He pointed at another hallway. "Down there, on the left."

"To change in, not to use… oh forget it." Clark took his tattered dignity and himself down to where Lex had indicated. He quickly changed, putting on slacks and shirt. He left off the coat and tie, and after a moment's hesitation, left the glasses as well.

He came back in to find Lex had left. Glancing around, Clark growled a little under his breath about theatrics, and then chose another path. That one led to a study, where Lex was now sitting at a desk, typing away on a computer.

Lex looked up when Clark came in, and then he noticeably did a double-take. He moved his hands off the keyboard and said slowly. "Clark." His eyes roamed up and down Clark's body, taking in details and then going back again to confirm what he'd seen the first time.

Had there ever been a time before when Clark had so blatantly confirmed his identity? Now that he thought about it, Clark didn't think so. They'd always both known, though. Clark could hide his identity from everybody but Lex, despite the lies. It had always been that way, and Clark was tired of the lies.

"Hey, Lex," Clark said awkwardly. Now that he was here, he wasn't sure what he'd planned to do. It just… it had just seemed like he should.

"What can I do for you?" Lex sat back, his eyes still drifting over Clark.

Clark saw the slight wince as Lex shifted, and he remembered what had sent him here. "You're hurt."

Lex rolled his eyes. "You slammed me into a concrete wall. Of course I hurt."

"You hit me with a kryptonite ray!"

"And you were fine three seconds later. Big deal."

"Just because I heal quickly," Clark said tightly, "doesn't mean it doesn't hurt when I'm hit!"

Lex paused, his eyes resting on one side of Clark where the beam had hit. "Okay."

"What?" Clark hadn't expected that.

Lex shrugged eloquently, spoiled slightly as his left shoulder didn't rise up as smoothly as the right. "You're right – pain is still pain. But what is your **point**?"

"I, uh… don't actually have one."

Unexpectedly, Lex laughed. An almost friendly smile turned his lips up and the corners of his eyes crinkled. "That figures."

Emboldened, Clark ventured closer. Lex watched him warily but made no move to escape. Clark reached a hand out to touch Lex's left shoulder carefully. "I didn't mean to throw you that hard."

"Well, I **did** mean to hit you with the beam," Lex retorted sourly. "It just didn't work as well as I'd hoped."

Clark snorted as he focused his vision and looked through the skin walls to the muscles and bones underneath. It didn't look like anything was broken; or rather, broken now – the way Lex healed, it could have been broken yesterday. The muscles, however, were swollen and locked, tight against each other.

"What?" Lex asked.

"It worked just as well as you intended it to." Clark moved behind Lex and placed his big hands over Lex's shoulders. Lex wasn't a slight person, and Clark actually felt somewhat normal as he started to squeeze lightly, feeling the surface layers move under his hands. The girls he'd practiced on had all felt like little dolls, and he'd been constantly afraid of breaking them.

Lex stiffened, holding himself completely still. He didn't even breathe for a few seconds.

Clark ignored him, working on the tense shoulders. The muscles underneath were incredibly tight, the right side almost as bad as the left. Clark kept his touch light, feeling for the slightest of gives and soothing it into letting him in deeper.

Gradually, Lex relaxed. His heartbeat was racing, but he wasn't moving from Clark's hands, and he wasn't poised to spring away.

Encouraged, Clark dug in, working through the layers. He could feel the difference now, the left side harder and more knotted. He tried not to cause too much more pain, though some was inevitable as he loosened the muscles.

Whenever that happened, Lex hissed slightly and then promptly relaxed again, voluntarily placing himself into Clark's care and making it easier to work. Clark marveled at that the first time, and then with the second and third, realized it was mostly training, years of being accustomed to massages and how to control the reflexes. And yet, Lex was all knotted up like this…

"I thought you had a personal masseuse," Clark remarked. The initial layer of tension was out and Clark was able to start moving out from the shoulders. He gently kneaded up Lex's neck and then back down again, spreading from back to shoulders to the tops of the arms before moving back to the main muscles, then up again.

Lex tilted his head down, opening up greater access to his neck. "I did. Then she tried to kill me. I haven't bothered to hire a new one. Not worth the aggravation." Lex spoke in short sentences between Clark's hands squeezing on his shoulders.

Remembering the attempted assassination, Clark's hands stilled and then bunched, crumpling the fabric of Lex's shirt. When he recaptured his breath, he smoothed out the shirt.

Lex shrugged off Clark's hands and then got up and unbuttoned the shirt, removing and tossing it to one side. He walked over to a straight-back chair on the other side of the desk and turned it around before sitting again, his arms over the chair back, his bare back to Clark.

Clark gulped. All that exposed skin was reminding him of long forgotten dreams. Back then, Lex had usually worn long-sleeves and clothes that kept his skin covered. But once in a while, Clark had caught glimpses that he horded. Lex, rolling up his sleeves. Lex, changing between boxing or fencing lessons, pulling off one shirt to pull on another. Walking in on Lex once during a massage... Clark used to dream about Lex's bare flesh. And now Lex was sitting there waiting for Clark to put his hands on him for his own massage. With a bit of wonder, Clark realized that Lex's shoulders were freckled.

For the first time in a very long time, Clark had to close his eyes against the heat that rose up within him.

Trembling, he walked to where Lex was sitting, and he reached out. He touched one shoulder lightly, marveling at the freckles on the pale skin. There was one cute little one, not quite round, with a little point on each side like a rounded diamond. Sharpness blunted by humanness. Clark traced it gently. Then he moved to the next one over, and the next, and...

"That's not much like a back-rub," Lex said with amusement lacing through his voice. Amusement and understanding. There was something very like a purr undercoating the tone.

With another gulp, Clark reined in his non-thoughts. He looked lower down Lex's back to a large dark bruise covering his left hip above the pants and down where Clark couldn't see. If a bruise was still there after a day... Clark was willing to bet that Lex's hip had been fractured, if not broken. It was still healing and would be for awhile longer.

The sight and thought settled him, and Clark returned his focus to Lex's back. Balance. The world lived in balance. He put his hands on Lex's shoulders and started again. Thoughts of naked flesh were shoved out of his mind as quickly as they floated in. Clark concentrated on the muscles and the tightness and working to bring Lex's body back into balance with itself, smoothing out the rough spots until it all worked effortlessly.

"You're good at this," Lex remarked with surprise.

Clark shrugged, not letting the movement interfere with the spot on Lex's ribs that he was currently going over. "Chloe's been taking jujitsu lessons. The dojo has a philosophy that if you learn to hurt somebody, you must also learn to heal them. Jujitsu classes are balanced with massage classes. You're allowed to bring somebody to work on, and Chloe likes to bring me."

"DanZan Ryu." Lex nodded. "I can't imagine Chloe being able to work well on you, though... with all the will in the world, her hands just aren't big enough for your bulk."

"Em, well," Clark grimaced. "That's what the teacher said. However, Sensei likes to use me as an anatomy diagram so she told me to keep coming back."

Lex burst out laughing and Clark had to stop digging into his ribs in case he hurt him. Instead, he left his hands there as he felt the laughter rolling through Lex's body. Closing his eyes, he concentrated on the feel, learning Lex's laugh by the muscles flexing and the lungs breathing and the blood running through. "Lex," Clark whispered, his eyes still closed. Somewhere here was his friend. He'd always known it, and now he could **feel** it under his fingertips.

There was a little silence after Lex finished laughing. Clark left his hands where they were, and Lex didn't move. Clark wanted his friend back so badly it hurt.

"You have enough money, why didn't you just buy the tritium?" Clark finally asked, breaking the silence. He brought his hands back up to safer areas and went over the shoulders again.

Lex snorted. "If I buy it, I have to account for it. Do you know how much paperwork there is in illuminated clock-making? Every single little gram has ten forms to go along with it."

"Stealing it is better?" Clark thought of all the things he'd destroyed in the illegal lab where Lex had stored it.

"Less paperwork, for certain." Lex pushed back a little and Clark stopped the backrub. Standing up from the chair, Lex stretched and then faced Clark.

Clark hadn't moved very far and Lex was right there. Shirtless. Staring at Clark with a little twist to his mouth and a crocked eyebrow. It was hard to concentrate on Lex's face, though, with a half-naked Lex right in front of him. Clark's hands twitched, wanting to rise up and touch. There were some freckles on the front of Lex's chest too, though not as many. His nipples were a rich burnt amber, blending in yet standing out on the pale white skin.

Lex's eyelids dipped down and he breathed in deeply, swaying a little towards Clark. Then he abruptly took a step back, turning away with a snap and striding towards the bookcases.

At least Clark wasn't the only one affected. He closed his eyes and fought down his body's reactions.

When he opened his eyes again, Lex had swung open a section of the bookcase and was entering a combination on a safe. Curious, Clark scanned the walls.

"Wow. How many safes do you have in there?" There were at least nine that Clark could see individually, hidden by more sections in the bookcase, behind paintings, and even behind the refrigerator, though he couldn't figure out where it would open.

"As many as will fit," Lex replied with a grin in his voice. "As long as the back wall already has the extra space made to fit them, it makes sense to optimize. Having multiple ones means I can open them up as needed without revealing what's in the others to people who don't need to know. Most people only know about the one or two they see me open and wouldn't think to look for others in the room."

Lex reached into the open safe and then threw something at Clark. "Catch."

Clark automatically caught the green glowing stone and then he promptly dropped it in shock. Then he stared at it at his feet for a bit and reached down and picked it up again. Clark held it in his hand and his hand didn't turn green with bulging veins out his arms. He wasn't doubled over in pain. There was no sense of fire shooting through his nerves from one end of his body to the next, being flayed alive moment by moment until somebody moved the rock. He was **holding** the rock in his hand.

"You neutralized..." Clark started to ask in wonder and then he put two and two together with their previous conversation. "It's fake?"

Poking at it, Clark couldn't tell the difference. It looked like kryptonite, physically it felt like kryptonite, it glowed identically to kryptonite... glowed, that is, like both kryptonite and tritium.

"You created fake kryptonite with the tritium?" Clark turned his puzzled gaze to Lex. "And hey, I thought I stopped you from stealing it!"

Lex was leaning against the wall, yet not quite making the 'casual' pose he was going for; he was quivering too much for that. Like a little kid at show and tell.

"The ones I was carrying were the decoy," Lex said smugly. "And that rock is indistinguishable from kryptonite. They are made from meteor rocks of the same composite range as kryptonite, with the same density and hardness. The radiation levels it gives off are equally within the same range, though structurally of course is different, but a basic analysis won't show any problems. If I flood the market with the fake stones, then scientists all over are going to stop researching the odd mutations kryptonite produces because there will only be mutations in a tenth of the samples. I'll be collecting the original rocks in the meantime and will corner all research developments. And nobody will know why."

Clark cocked his head to one side as he listened to Lex's plan. The evil master genius never once said he was going to stop researching it himself, in fact said he would continue to. However... a flood of fake kryptonite into the market would have another effect besides the one Lex described. Not only would scientists stop using it because of the uncertainty of research... but **criminals** would find it much much harder to use against Superman. They would buy kryptonite on the black market... and Superman would ignore it and fly right through and capture them. Somebody would try and make a suit powered by kryptonite... and it would fail. There would still be some real stuff out there until Lex finished his collection process, so Clark wasn't totally safe. However, this plan would greatly reduce his risk.

There was no way that Lex didn't know about the second effect. The person who planned everything down to the last detail and had back-up plans for back-up plans and would use himself as a decoy. He knew. His stated plan was the public one. The second might very well be the real one.

Throwing the rock up in the air, Clark caught it on the way down and marveled at his fingers wrapped around the stone. He squeezed and the rock crumbled under his grip. No loss of super-powers there.

It may not have been real, but it felt **wonderful** to crush the stone in his grip. For all the times he writhed in pain under its thrall, submitting to a rock... Yes, it felt good.

"Lex," Clark dusted his hands off. "Thank you."

Lex eyed the dust and fragments on the floor with a resigned attitude. He looked up sharply at Clark's words, but didn't respond verbally. Instead he turned to shut the safe door and close the bookshelf.

Clark watched him. Watched the elegant slim figure, still beautiful after eight years and who knew how many accidents and attempted murders. He remembered that same figure moving with a similar elegance in the castle library, turning to shelve a book, turning to get some water, turning to play some pool. Back in the days, Lex had been always a-prowl. Either that, or sitting quietly yet alert. Lex rarely did anything as simple as relax. Apparently, not a lot had changed over the years.

"Lex," Clark hesitated. It had been so many years. Clark had been such a young teenager, so unaware of the world. His world had been black and white and he'd worshiped Lex. To find out that Lex wasn't perfect had been devastating. "I'm sorry."

With a roll of his eyes, Lex walked away. "In case you forgot, I heal quickly."

"Not that. I meant,..." Clark scrubbed a hand through his hair. It had been a gesture of Lex's once, and now that he no longer used it, Clark seemed to have adopted it. "For everything."

Lex stopped dead in his tracks, stilling in mid-motion. He didn't turn around; just stood there. His heart-rate accelerated.

Clark took a step forward, reaching his hand out.

A loud beeping noise sounded from Lex's office at the same time as Clark heard his Fortress communicator activate.

Giving an anguished look at Lex, Clark sped to the bathroom where he'd left his costume. He checked the message and then changed. Back then to the studio in a blink.

"Lex, I have to---"

Lex waved at him impatiently, his other hand on a computer. "Flooding in Pakistan, I know. Go. Use the balcony, it's quicker."

Clark opened the balcony door but stood for a moment longer.

"Clark," Lex said softly, "apology accepted."

Without daring to think about that, Clark jumped into the night sky and flew across the world.

... ... ...

Thirty-eight hours later, Clark wobbled through the air towards home. He could have gotten a night's sleep there, but he was tired and dirty and he just wanted his home and his shower and his bed. In that order.

Shedding his costume on the way, Clark went straight to the shower on full hot. Steam and strong clean water pounded into him, washing everything away. It felt so good, Clark almost fell asleep there.

With an effort of will, Clark shut off the taps and wrapped a towel around his waist to head to his next objective: bed.

In his bedroom, though, he stopped.

"Uh, Lex..." Clark blinked at the figure in his room. "I'm not up to talking about... anything right now."

"Relax," Lex said, holding up a bottle in one hand. "I'm just here to return the favor." He paused uncertainly. "If," he added hesitantly, "you want it. I'm not as good as you, but I'm willing to try."

Clark had to grin. He didn't have much energy for much else, yet the grin broke through without conscious volition. Collapsing face-first on the bed, he turned his head far enough to warn Lex, "I'm probably going to fall asleep on you."

Lex spread out the oil on his hands and started rubbing it over Clark's back and all the tired muscles. "Falling asleep during _backrubs_ is perfectly acceptable," he purred, with a slight emphasis on the 'backrub'.

The implication wasn't lost on Clark, and he hoped it would be more than words later. The hurt that had been in his heart for years was now gone, rubbed away by Lex's strong, competent hands on him. Before Clark could think much more about it, he was asleep, secure and happy with Lex beside him.

 

* * *

END

  


* * *

**Author's Note:**

> For Jlvsclrk who asked for "world domination, one backrub at a time". Well, um, I sortof kindof did that? Sortof. ^^;;
> 
> Cross-posted to [my livejournal](http://community.livejournal.com/alatrific/18932.html). Beta by Ronda.


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